The stars, in that dark time between moon set and sun rise, have been spectacular lately, brilliantly arrayed between a line up of planets, well-worth some neck-craning to take it all in. This morning, it was Triangle that caught my eye, pointing the way to a meteor falling in a silver flash toward the black hulk of Waialeale.
Returning to the house, both dogs and a blanket gathered near to ward off the chill of impending autumn, I open my laptop and scan what passes for news: two-thirds of Americans polled are willing to give up some freedoms in the fight against the terrorist bogeyman; fears of another recession — caused in large part by our expensive war against terror — cause stocks to fall; fears of anything related to the supposed home of terror prompt Texans to boot a Brazilian-born Al Jazeera journalist from a high school football game.
Ugh. I don’t want fear influencing my day, undermining my life. But it’s a steady stream that’s being fed us, especially with the tenth anniversary of 9/11 on the approach, and our government is taking that opportunity to beat ever harder on the war drums: ”we must stay in Afghanistan or risk more attacks!”
I don’t believe it, and like 99 percent of what’s being sold us, from policy to products, I don’t buy it.
So I shut my laptop and went back outside, where the day was waking up and applying a layer of gold gilt to towering columns of cumulus and all the mountains were exquistely clear and thin streaks of pink clouds stretched out, like arms seeking an embrace, from both the summit of Makaleha and the eastern horizon, and there were the dogs and me, walking joyously right smack in the middle of all this beauty, perfection, complexity.
Back at the house, I checked on my new garden: two beds that look like fresh graves, encircled with the dog pens to keep out the chickens, covered with chicken wire to deter the doves.
It was only Friday that I sprinkled in the seeds, covered them lovingly with the soil that I’d dug and worked and then worked some more, and by Sunday the arugula had already sprouted, followed yesterday by daikon and this morning, lettuce and kale.
I looked down at those little starts, the wheel of life turning in my own back yard, the promise of abundance fostered by my willingness to provide a bit of support and care.
I looked and saw the results of directing my energy and attention on love, and not fear.
Yes, energy flows where attention goes.
What would you like to bring into your life today?